


Day 30: Spilling Words Like Cement

by whatsanapocalae



Series: Inktober 2018 [13]
Category: The Evil Within (Video Game)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-08-11 07:58:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16471781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whatsanapocalae/pseuds/whatsanapocalae
Summary: Sebastian accidentally shoots Stefano, which makes him say some things he's afraid will put him in the way of more harm.Whenever I skip a day in Inktober, it's just that I wrote an original piece that day instead of fic. You can read the original ones on whatsanwritepocalae.tumblr.com





	Day 30: Spilling Words Like Cement

“Look at me,” he wheezed, trying to laugh through the pain, “You made me into a masterpiece.”

And then he was falling to his knees and, from there, the cold cement floor. Sebastian was on him in an instant, almost as fast as the bullet that had pierced through him, firing off the remainder of the magazine, reloading, and taking out the rest of the Lost that were hunting them. He stayed over Stefano as he fired, one leg over his ruined chest, so at to protect him, but none of the Lost even got close. 

When they were the only two left alive Sebastian dropped the gun to the ground. His hands were shaking. Everything was shaking, blurry, and it took a moment for Stefano to realize that it was him that was shaking, not the Marrow. Those shaking hands were on his shaking chest, Sebastian ripping over his shirt and jacket to see the damage. 

“If only I had my camera,” Stefano winced as the pressure on his chest released and Sebastian was looking at him, bared and bleeding. 

“Don’t talk like that,” Sebastian glared down at the bullet hole, which had just barely grazed a lung before coming out the other side. “You’re not dying or anything.”

Stefano chuckled but that led to coughing and gasping and trying to breathe and he was slightly aware that he was crying from the pain of it all. He moved his hand, took Sebastian’s hand in his own. There was a safe house nearby, Hoffman’s, and there would be medical care there. He didn’t want to move though and the way that Sebastian was looking at him, he could tell that Sebastian was conflicted about it as well. He and Hoffman didn’t get along and there was a chance she would turn them away. Not to mention that they’d only been gone a few minutes and that magical coffee had had no chance to brew yet. 

“It’s alright,” Stefano swallowed. “It’s alright.”

Sebastian wiped at his own face but that just left a trail of blood and grime on his cheek instead of helping any. “I shot you. I think I’m the one supposed to be doing the comforting here.”

“I’m sorry,” Stefano sighed and that was wrong, that wasn’t what Sebastian wanted to hear. It wasn’t something that Stefano normally said and Sebastian’s eyes were so big with surprise and concern. He felt that he had to clarify and at first he just lay there, his hand squeezing Sebastian’s and his eye searching his face, trying to think of what to say, having so much to say and not wanting to get any of it out. He didn’t want to die with it though, couldn’t, but he didn’t think Sebastian deserved to carry the weight of what he had to say. “I’m sorry.”

Sebastian must have decided what he wanted to do because he slid his arm under Stefano’s battered ribs, still holding his hand with the other, and started to lift. “We don’t have time for that,” he growled, not looking as Stefano’s face twisted, the pain in his chest corroding his nerves, making his grit his teeth until his jaw ached. “You’re supposed to be a psychopath, right? I thought they didn’t feel remorse.”

“No humility, either.” He remembered what Hoffman had said. He couldn’t forget it, had it replaying in his head, the list of symptoms he was supposed to have, things that he knew were wrong with him but had always tried to fight past. “Or compassion. Or love… Sebastian?”

Sebastian let go of Stefano’s hand and put his arm under his knees and lifted him, letting him hiccup and gasp, weave his fingers into Sebastian’s shirt as he hid his face against him, hiding from the pain as much as he hid from Sebastian, not wanting him to see his expression. 

“Sebastian. Sebastian, I- I don’t. What does love feel like?”

Sebastian started to move, holding him, carrying him, keeping him close and safe. There shouldn’t have been any enemies on their way back, they’d killed everything on their way out. 

“Love? Shit, Stefano, you really want to talk about this now?” Sebastian altered his hold, trying not to hurt him as he did so, “You should be saving your strength.”

Stefano brought his head up to nuzzle into Sebastian’s neck. He could smell the blood on him, and the sweat, but also his aftershave and whiskey. He felt Sebastian’s heart rate and breathed, trying to calm his own down. He’d never been shot before, but he was pretty sure that it wasn’t supposed to make his fingers go numb. That was more likely the blood loss. 

“I’m not… I’m not heartless, Sebastian,” he spoke anyway. “I do feel things. I feel a lot of thing. I feel… something, like a tightening in my chest, when you look at me with something other than hatred.”

Sebastian was walking but he was also looking at him in a way that made his lungs hurt, his heart beat faster even as he tried to calm it, and there was no hatred in his eyes, not now, not after all this. Sebastian opened his mouth, ready to tell him to be quiet again but he couldn’t, he couldn’t, he couldn’t keep this in now that he’d started. He wasn’t sure he’d make it to Hoffman’s safe room and he was certain he wouldn’t make it out again. 

“Don’t interrupt,” he shot and Sebastian shut his mouth with a snap. “I feel a straining, whenever you’re gone, getting supplies, whenever you leave me alone. Worry. I feel hot, right now, but a lot of the time, and I want to put my hands on you, in kindness. I want to photograph you but not like normal. I want to see you when you find Lily, I want to see the smile that you wear when you see her. I want to see you full of joy.” 

Being awake, talking so much, it was leeching his strength. Sebastian hadn’t continued to try and interrupt him, had just let him talk. Stefano didn’t want to see the look on his face. He wanted to sleep and he wanted to drape himself all over Sebastian and he wanted to feel Sebastian run his hands all very him, make the pain go away with his fingertips. 

Sebastian pulled away from him, letting cold air pass between them and Stefano kept his eye down, kept himself safe from judgment, because he did care about that, more than was healthy, more than he was sure a psychopath was supposed to. 

Sebastian’s lips were on his forehead though, pressing a small kiss to his balmy skin, which he knew was just as splattered with dirt and blood as Sebastian’s. He wanted more. He wanted all of Sebastian. But he could see a door in the distance with a red pick on it, and he knew that they were almost there. Almost safe. 

“That sounds, shit, Stefano, that sounds a lot like you know what love is already,” Sebastian murmured into his hair, picking up the pace a little bit. “Just keep that feeling in there a bit longer, okay? We can talk about it more when you’re better.”

Stefano sighed, feeling a coil of cold in his gut, the same as when he’d send his photographs to museums, knowing that they’d be sent back with a lengthy and heartless rejection letter. He drew closer to Sebastian, trying to swallow that cold down, feeling the hole between his ribs threaten to spread with that terrible dread.


End file.
